eenslaved: When he pulls the chair out for her, the six of them watch as the dildo wobbles obscenely
eenslaved: When he pulls the chair out for her, the six of them watch as the dildo wobbles obscenely. “Consistency is crucial in Sara’s training,” he was explaining to their guests – Andrew and Beth, Ken and Paige – two couples who lived in their neighborhood. Ken and Paige were right next door, and Andrew and Beth’s backyard shared a fence with theirs. “You may be seated, Sara,” her husband told her. She felt her cheeks blazing with hot shame, but at this point she was too well-trained to disobey or even display a hint of reticence. To balk even a little would contradict her husband’s pride in her obedience and training. She lowered herself slowly over the chair, first feeling the dildo prodding between her folds. It had a good girth to it so that she could feel every inch as she took it inside her body. Everyone remained standing while she took her seat, so she had to experience a fresh way of humiliation as they gazed down at her, her hands resting lightly on her thighs. Her husband then picked up each foot and, one at a time, bound her feet to the legs of the chair. Her knees were strapped to the front legs, and her ankles to the back. This folded her calves back as if she were kneeling, but in the chair, all she could rest on was her bottom, bringing more weight to bear down on the dildo buried in her pussy. Then he gripped the back of her chair and scooted her closer to the table. Everyone took their seats then. “I’ve commissioned a new dining set,” he said, almost apologetically. “Steel with a glass top, for obvious reasons.” He nodded at her. What he doesn’t share is that the new dining set will be taller, too. Comfortable enough for his height. But her feet would be just an inch or two away from the floor when seated. A deliberate choice on her husband’s part, and she blushes to remember how he brought her to the carpenter to measure and ensure that small but significant difference in height. They begin to dine. Everyone treats the meal-taking casually. She is quieter than the others tonight, more internal. She grows increasingly distracted because she can feel pussy getting wetter. And the more aware of the way her cunt feels around the dildo, the more she lubricates it. An ongoing cycle that just makes it more obvious that she is sitting there naked, her body intensely aroused. She stops moving the silverware, just sits there, drawn entirely into her body, one hand clenched around a fork, the other digging into the wooden surface of the table. At that point her husband speaks up. “Sara, you haven’t finished your dinner,” he says. Her body jolts a little but obediently she lifts the fork to her mouth. Everyone watches as she chews and swallows. Mechanically, she digs her fork into the mashed potatoes again. Eats slowly. “She’s so desperate for dessert,” her husband smiles. “Sara, you’re just dying for someone to play with your body, aren’t you?” She feels her pussy pulse around the dildo. Another little rush of wetness. “Yes,” she says hoarsely. “I wish for someone to play with my body.” “Touch yourself,” he suggest. He forks up a cut piece of steak, takes his time chewing and swallowing. “Play with your tits for us, the way you like me to.” Ohhh. Her left hand comes up slowly and curls around her swollen, aching breast. Squeezes and releases. She gropes herself, while her right hand trembles, holding the fork. “Keep eating,” her husband encourages. She keeps eating, and she keeps fondling herself. Soon she’s tugging on her nipple, milking the stiff bud, pulling rhythmically, insistently, firmly. Then pinching cruelly, needing more. She switches from one breast to the other. Her body is squirming on the dildo. She’s rocking herself on it, spreading her thighs wider so she can sink as low as possible, feel it pushing inside her. -- source link